Spell
by Batya000
Summary: And the shadows cast on devotion, creed of my silent suffocation, lost in the arms of destiny, it has turned into my curse. SHORT drabble. M/M slash, personal fic, nothing to do with Inuyasha or its fandom. Rate T for mentions.


**AN/** OC centered/OCYouki's POV, Short drabble and Strongly Based on "Bittersweet" from Apocalyptica ft The Rasmus. M/M slash. Dark environment. Has nothing to do with InuYasha, personal fic. Ranma's exterior and name belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. Sorry for the grammar mistakes you will find, no BETA, English is not my first language. Enjoy.

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 **Spell**

" _And the shadows cast on devotion_

 _Creed of my silent suffocation_

 _Lost in the arms of destiny_

 _It has turned into my curse"_

I pulled the black hood over my saturated form as I sauntered in the ferocious rain, small pellets of water spat on my hands as the remainder of the drops quenched the scattered puddles decorating the asphalt. Through one of the pools of rainwater, the familiar sound of the gushing rain was brought to my attention. I managed to lift my head up just a bit.

I closed my eyes as I found a place to sit. The ripened stilted bench smelled like waterlogged oak and after hearing it squeak under my weight I conjectured about my own determination of being outside. I ignored the soft beseech that came from the inside of my desolated mind as rain fell in crazy chaotic drops, the gusting wind carried them in wild vortices one moment and in diagonal sheets the next. It ran down my face as a thin layer, not as cold as it would be on November, but without the warmth of summer showers.

I breathed in; the scent of soil soothed me as the blue afternoon wore my lungs out of comfort. My skin pickled in distressing dynamism and my hands gripped the swollen wood bench. It wasn't a tranquil day, doubtless going outside hadn't being my finest route, but after ire seized my stability as hostage I decided it would be healthier for me if I meandered outside.

I reach agreement there are days I have no constraints for my astringent forlorn and afflict, I understood I couldn't just vent and leave my surroundings in negative awe, not that there was any. I physically found myself unable to do so. It felt exhausting. I had to go outside, Even if what seemed a cyclone was approaching.

Before going meanders outside, the water boiled inside the cabin, I reached the herbs jugs, cinnamon powder served much as a trigger potion and my heart shattered after the characteristic lotion soared up inside my fogged memory. Ranma's lips were soft and tasted like a honeyed indulgence of thymes and a spicy stir of cinnamon bister.

My fingers could run for hours through his long obsidian sable-hair and and when my nose buried in the crook of his neck, he always had a unique fragrance of zest and youth, an attar that meant his name, and the scent enthused me more than lust, his voice was tranquil, like a serene regale of peace, his hands like flags over my tingling skin, they were warm and heartfelt to match mines for more than one reason.

Ranma's incessant lustful cravings felt never-ending and blissful, idyllic to my tormented head and I let him, I let his hands touch my many times revived body. Nights of little talks and wayward humid kisses, toes curling and tightening ropes around my wrists had much more effect on my soul than I thought conceivable. Hands that were shameless to part my legs as I felt shield-less opened for him, my voice meant his name, my pants were infinitely meaningful to his ears and each time I felt more desired than the preceding time. After many rousing and stimulating experiences I disclose his tongue was for my own solid pleasure and he used it in more than one way to make me collapse.

His body seemed my own escape through my darkest of days, even when my whole steadiness shook with distress and frosty sweat ran down my front, he would find a way to warm me up, without using paraphrasing of affective charm, he would light me up with what he had to offer; himself. And though he made me his countless of times, I can assure he was mine from the inside out.

Strangely enough, the somber grief seemed to still reside whilst the tears from desertion were not there anymore, at least not outside. I sighed in melancholy and the same exasperating feeling tugged wildly at my heart.

That's when I decided to step outside the wooden cottage. From the wooden bench I rested, I stood up and walked to the riverbank, staring up at the sky that had once been filled with lights, silently cursing the way my clothing clung to my body in the horrid humidity. The cicadas sang, the fireflies flew, and that old stone bridge stood still over the water, not much had changed in ten years.

But I wondered where he was.

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OOOOO

 **AN/** Short Bitter drabble.

I am not done for today, actually what I have been working in, was not THIS fic, I will post the fluff I promised throughout the day, tomorrow or in the first days of the week. I just wanted to share this little nothing I had stored since a couple of months ago, I have about 5 or 6 finished/complete works that I haven't posted (NO LIE) because they are very random or are missing that _little_ something…. Or are too cruel/shady/ angsty (EJEM the whole/ **complete** /entire – 6 chapters- Reciprocate fic) lol

Anyways, I wanted to give this one the opportunity. So I hope you enjoyed this little drabble.

Till next time!

Batya


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